Damascus Diaries

Men med håret i hestehale ser jeg kanskje forskjellen?

Etter fire hektiske uker er det på tide med litt ferie. To velfortjente friuker ligger foran meg, og dermed har jeg tid til å blogge litt også. Her om dagen var jeg på Cham City Center, hvor jeg blant annet lette etter sjampo. Det var da jeg kom over denne:

Det var jo merkelig at de hadde lagt en sjampo for hester i den vanlige sjampohylla, tenkte jeg, og i det hele tatt merkelig at de selger utstyr til hest her. Ved nærmere undersøkelse viste det seg at sjampoen ikke er for hester, den bare heter Horse Shampoo, og den er for menneskehår. Navnet er ikke helt tilfeldig valgt, for på baksiden står det at sjampoen inneholder hestehaleekstrakt. Ikke vet jeg hva man kan ekstrahere fra en hestehale, eller helt hvordan man gjør det, for ikke å snakke om hvilke potensielle effekter det har på håret og hodebunnen. Antageligvis ingen spesielt interessante, for jeg har brukt sjampoen i en uke nå (bare for å kunne meddele resultatet her på tumblr), og jeg har verken fått hestetagl på hodet eller begynt å knegge. Det er rett og slett skuffende liten forskjell fra den vanlige sjampoen jeg bruker. Men det er jo litt festlig å ha en hestesjampo.

PS: Den er importert fra Thailand. Vet ikke hvor vanlig det er å bruke hestehaleekstrakt i ting og tang der.

PPS: For at folk skal kunne kommentere (hvis man kan kalle det det), må jeg avslutte innlegget med et spørsmål. Det er litt rosablogg-aktig å avslutte med et spørsmål, men hvis det er det som skal til, så gjør jeg det som gjøres må. Eller hva?

12pm

Troll kan temmes, og hyener også.

I syrisk folketro heter det seg at hyenen kan snike seg innpå deg bakfra og dytte deg til du faller i bakken. Deretter hypnotiserer den deg ved å stirre deg inn i øynene. Når den så åpner kjeften og du lukter stanken derfra, vil du følge etter den hvor den enn tar deg - hvilket antageligvis er hjem til hulen hvor du blir hovedretten i familien Hyenes middag.

Hyene heter forøvrig ḍabʿ (ضبع) på arabisk, og det hypnotiserte offeret kalles maḍbūʿ (مضبوع).

9pm

Du kan tenke det…

…men du kan ikke si det høyt. Her om dagen tenkte jeg for meg selv at det er mye hyggeligere for en gjennomsnittlig, blond norsk jente å bo i Shaalan/Abu Rumaneh enn i gamlebyen, hvor konsentrasjonen av vestlige studenter og turister er meget høy, og det er vanskelig å gå noe sted uten å få oppmerksomhet fra gutter og unge menn. I mitt nabolag, rett ved et av de ambassaderike områdene i Damaskus, pleier det ikke å være noe problem å være skandinavisk kvinne. Tenkte jeg.

Men i går, da jeg hastet langsetter en av gatene i Abu Rumaneh på vei til siste time litt etter seks på kvelden, noe irritert og gretten over det kalde været og regnet, skjedde det noe merkelig. Idet jeg passerte to unge menn som sto og hang på fortauet uten en butikk (forøvrig et vanlig tidsfordriv i Damaskus), begynte den ene å ule som ei jaktbikkje. Naturlig nok sank humøret et par hakk til, men jeg lot som ingenting og fortsatte til skolen.

I ettertid slår det meg at jeg kanskje reagerte litt feil, selv om det tross alt var instinktivt. Men ærlig talt. En fyr har som hobby å stå på et fortau og røyke sammen med kompisen sin. Når en kvinne passerer, finner han det for godt å lage lyder som en kåt hannhund. I full offentlighet. Og så er det jeg som skal bli flau?

7pm

More horse photos

This time from the weekend, in Seidnaya.

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6pm

some photos

By popular request.

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9pm

Why I’m not a jockey

Today I was taken to a farm in the oasis to try a new horse I might ride and race. The test ride turned out to be multiple laps in canter around a field while the horse’s owner and two employees were standing in the middle watching, occasionally shouting at the horse to move faster, or even advancing with a whip in hand. Very fun. The horse, a chestnut stallion, was nice enough. He seemed kind and bold, not at all spooky, and solid. Good enough for me! Now we’ll see whether I’ll ride in the race this weekend or wait and train for the next one. Will at any rate have to go shopping for a helmet and some breeches one of these days.

9pm

A fact.

Unpopped popcorn, if marinated in very hot oil, can melt through the bottom of a hard plastic bowl.

7pm

Horsing around

Went riding Saturday, in beautiful Seidnaya, away from the buzzing city. The landscape with its hills and greenery was a welcome change from Shaalan which cannot really be said to be particularly easy on the eye. The mild breeze, the fresh air and the warm evening sun together with the blissful silence of the distant countryside created an amazing atmosphere.

Here, in a small stable with a sandschool of odd dimensions, I was presented with Mutahawwi, a Syrian asil Arabian trained for endurance. (And believe it or not, I actually think he is a gelding). Even though I found it difficult to balance properly on this horse - the excuses are many and none of them are any good - I was offered to participate in an endurance ride next weekend. If everything goes according to plan, I will start the 40 km class, either on Mutahawwi or another suitable mount. It should be an interesting experience for sure!

7pm

Internet at home

Only four and a half months after my arrival, I finally have internet at home. Until now, I have had to make do with the limited internet available for students at IFPO, and various internet cafés. The problem with internet cafés is that absolutely nobody in Syria is able to use the internet without smoking. A lot. And of course, I have to decide to go there, find time for it, pack my computer and go. So when using the internet (in a meaningful way, as opposed to the experience provided by the IFPO wlan) is both an inconvenience and a health hazard, it goes without saying that I more often than not resist the temptation to do it.

But now there is internet in the house. Or not so much in the house as in the cute little modem I can plug in at any time, almost anywhere in the city, and access the internet. It is pretty fast (at least compared to what I have become used to), and there is no time limit. However, there is a cap on monthly data traffic. 500MB or 1-30GB per month, the latter option being ridiculously expensive (but then it is also called “Corporate +”). So yes. A cap. Syria is a developing country when it comes to the Internet. Although at least it is useful in that I quickly learn how much bandwidth I actually use doing this or that online. I realise that I shall have to upgrade from 1GB to maybe 3GB in order to avoid paying double price for every MB after exceeding the monthly limit.

Still, any internet (beyond dial-up) is better than no internet. (Seriously, no internet is better than dial-up. Dial-up shortens your lifespan considerably). And now that I can use it any time I like, it is time to make up for four months of almost no blogging, so brace yourselves. :)

10pm

Four seasons

Where I come from, we have four seasons. They are all seasons of cold and downpour, just different kinds of precipitation and with varying degrees of cold. And in between the seasons there are sometimes short periods of what we call nice weather. The lack of days of nice weather is what leads my mother to say that we can’t complain about the sun, no matter how warm it is. Complaining about the rain and snow, however, is not only acceptable, but a vital part of the Norwegian national identity. If you think this is strange, then don’t go to Iceland.

Syria, on the other hand, has two seasons as far as I know. There is the hot season, and the cold season. It would be nice if there were a transitory period between them, but it appears that the weather just decides one day to become cold overnight, and so it does. Without warning. I promise that when you arrive in August, it is hard to believe that in a few months’ time Damascus will be so cold that you will feel that you are never going to feel truly warm again. And in December, the heat of the summer months seems as remote as a distant land. Until it suddenly is upon you again.

But if you want four seasons in Damascus, you can check in at the Four Seasons downtown by Jisr al-Ra’iis. It has both four seasons and four sides. And if that is too expensive for your taste, you can settle for four flat seasons on a Damascene pizza, from any restaurant or pizza place. The four seasons of Damascus are tomato, green pepper, olive and mushroom.

Four seasons that don’t change.

12pm